


A Journey Just Begun

by Anonymouskeeper



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic and Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pseudo Historical, Characters have magic, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hwang Hyunjin-centric, Little bit of Fluff, Little bit of angst, M/M, Mysterious Chan, Mysterious Changbin, Mysterious Jisung, Non-Graphic Violence, Prince Hyunjin, Revolution, more tags and characters to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29499411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymouskeeper/pseuds/Anonymouskeeper
Summary: An attempted invasion, a planned coup and a mysterious man hidden away; before this, Hyunjin had never thought he’d truly stand up against his father, too afraid of the consequences. Now, maybe there is a chance for change.Sent on a journey by a mysterious man locked away under the palace, Hyunjin seeks help; no, he seeks a god. A god willing to help overthrow the king. He is unsure if he will succeed, but Hyunjin is willing to try. Thankfully, the god he was sent to find was more welcoming than expected, and Hyunjin finds himself in the middle of a coup that will, hopefully, change his life for the better. He just never expected the true consequences.
Relationships: Bang Chan & Han Jisung | Han & Seo Changbin, Bang Chan & Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han & Hwang Hyunjin, Hwang Hyunjin & Seo Changbin
Kudos: 2





	1. The Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, welcome to my first SKZ AU. I’ve really enjoyed reading historical au’s recently and was inspired to write my own. This fic is Hyunjin-centric, although other characters do appear throughout and Chan, Jisung and Changbin play major roles. I do plan on there being other fics in this series, concentrating on other members and their part in this AU. 
> 
> This is also a fantasy sort of fic, with magic widely spread and different creatures known throughout this universe. This leads me to use a more pagan description of gods, which is loosely based on ancient Greece/Rome - as will become apparent throughout the fic (and I apologise if this is wrong in any way). Also, I’ve tagged this fic as pseudo-historical, since I honestly don’t know very much about Korean history and have no definitive time period for this fic, beyond quite a long time ago. 
> 
> Please ignore any spelling or grammatical errors, since this has been briefly proof-read but not truly edited. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think :)

The path is dark, only slivers of moonlight making its way through the dense canopy above him. The forest makes no sound; not even the chirp of a bug or the rustling of leaves break the silence. There's only the footfall of his horses hooves, softened to near-noiselessness by the damp soil of the path. It had been raining, when he'd entered the forest all those hours ago, but over time it had lightened to a drizzle and now it had stopped, leaving the air damp and cold. He didn't mind. He almost didn't notice, in fact.

This wasn't about him. This was about his family.

His people.

His kingdom.

Hyunjin closed his eyes, sighing. His horse remained steady beneath him. He had fled from the palace five nights ago, a travelling sack full of his possessions slung over his shoulder and his horse his only company. He had been in worse conditions, on the campaigns he'd accompanied his father and brother on, but this felt different. This time he was alone; this time, the fate of the entire kingdom rested on only his shoulders. Besides that, this wasn't a campaign - this was a search for help at best; treachery at worst.

The southern tribes had stormed the palace; years and years of tensions had mounted until they could no longer take the inconsistent, harsh rule of his father. Honestly, Hyunjin couldn't blame them. He didn't know how much longer he could survive under his father's rule, either. The attack had been largely unsuccessful, however; many of the invaders had been struck down or imprisoned, although a shadow had fallen over the palace. There were still rumours of tribal leaders and the smaller clans banding together to overthrow the crown; more concerning still were his fathers plans to put a stop to the opposition.

Hyunjin remembers visiting the southern tribes as a young boy, on a diplomatic visit with his mother's brother and his older cousin. He had loved it; the way the people there had built their lives around the water they worshipped. The boats that littered their ports could have been intimidating, but Hyunjin had loved seeing the structures - the only boats he had seen before that were war vessels. The brights colours of the towns had been eye-catching, so different to the somber colours of the palace. The people had been welcoming and cheerful and Hyunjin had promised, as he'd left, that he'd be back soon, because he knew he'd miss the place.

He hadn't been able to keep his promise.

It wasn't long after they got back from the southern tribal lands that relations had soured. Hyunjin hadn't realised at the time, kept apart from such politics by his age and position as the second son. He still didn't know, not for sure, exactly why the tension started. He had never dared ask his father.

Not even after those tensions had culminated in an attempted coup.

He breathes deeply, tilting his head back to stare at the dark canopy above him. He had tried not to fixate on that night; he had thoughts of little else.

He had been in the palace when it was stormed and he had been in the palace when his father had the first insurgent beheaded. And the next. A show of strength, his father had said. To show anyone planning to follow that they wouldn't stand for it.

_Hyunjin had spent the attempted coup with the archers, a defensible position that kept him safe. He was the spare prince - he couldn't be risked, in case something happened to his brother. His brother, who he'd kept track of as the crown prince made his way through the courtyard, cutting down insurgents as he went. Hyunjin thought it was a stupid system, keeping him out of direct danger even as the heir to the throne was right in the thick of it. He didn't know if he would ever demand he be allowed to fight, though; he hated the thought of the indiscriminate slaughter a battlefield held. He didn't think he would be able to follow the examples set by his father and brother in previous wars._

_Now, he had been called down to stand beside his father, his brother to his father's other side and the crown's closest advisors to their backs. There was a group of men knelt in the dirt before them, resigned and angry and something in their eyes still fighting, even as the king stared down at them. Hyunjin resisted the urge to squirm._

_"Why have you attacked your crown?" His father's voice boomed, echoing around the empty._

_The men stare back at him, their lips staying tightly, defiantly, shut._

_"The crown stays strong." His father continues, unimpaired by their silence. "Your attempt today only proved that further." His grin was bloodthirsty. "The crown will reap the rewards of your attack; we will continually grow stronger against those who wish to cripple us. Whilst you, dirty traitors, will lose your lives. And your cause will lose their soldiers."_

_There was a roar of triumph from the crowd of courtiers and nobility around them, led by some of the younger higher nobles. Hyunjin curled his lip in distaste - people were about to lose their lives for fighting a cause they believed in enough to risk it all, and none of these people cared. Hyunjin understood not speaking up against the decision, for he dared not speak against his father for risk of extreme punishment either. Sometimes he wished he had the courage to do something._

_As he watched the defiance in the men's eyes die only when the very light inside of them was extinguished, he thought, maybe this was the push he needed. Knowledge that someone - that groups of people, armies - were rising up against his father's rule, that they were willing and able to attack the palace itself... Hyunjin wasn't alone in his disagreement with his father's decisions. It was hard to hear such talk in the palace, the inhabitants largely agreeing with his father and the ones who didn't keeping their silence out of fear._

Hyunjin had spent many hours feeling like his insides were crawling their way up his throat, warring with himself over what to do. He had paced his room for hours, weighing the advantaged of actively disobeying his father's rule.

His father had called him to a meeting later that evening. It was the final push he'd needed. It was that night he'd left.

_"There are rumours that Shin Ha-Joon is marching on the palace."_

_The speaker is old. Very old, with grey hair and a stooped back, his hands hidden in his ornate sleeves. Hyunjin hated him; hated him with a passion he had never felt before. This man had led his father in every decision the king had ever made - the good and the bad. Especially the bad. Son Jong-Soo had been the one to suggest the public execution of so many of the invaders. Needless death._

_Hyunjin was also fairly sure that it was Son Jong-soo who encouraged the souring relations with the southern tribe in the first place, if only out of spite. The daughter of one of the leading clan heads had refused his hand in marriage and that apparently wasn't something the old man was willing to let go of._

_"Than we must prepare." His father grumbled, tapping his fingers on the table. Hyunjin had been allowed to sit in on meetings between his father and the advisors for only a small handful of years now, although he wasn't encouraged to say anything. He had been taunted by many that he was only there as a pretty face for the old men to look at as they schemed. He knew, somewhere deep inside, that that was the truth. They didn't want his opinion; they only wanted his face._

_In his darker moments, he thinks that's all he's good for._

_"Send some of their own warriors back to them." Advisor Woo snarled. He got a number of surprised noises from around the table, but his ruthless grin soon soothed any dissent. Hyunjin felt his heart sink. "Young-Hee has prepared these."_

_He puts a little, straw bag on the table. There are gasps, although none of them of protest._

_Hyunjin can't stop his own gasp. Its a hex bag - the worst sort of curse. His father had drawn the kingdom further away from the wildness of magic than even his grandfather had, who had put laws in place to limit its use. His father hunted magic and only permitted it for a number of limited uses. One of these was why Young-Hee was still in the palace - an old woman, a witch, who had been with the royal family for longer than anybody could remember. She was the crown's only defence against magical attacks, and since Hyunjin didn't know of any such attacks, she must have been successful, either as a deterrent or as the defence. If she had the power, the immorality to make a hex bag...no wonder she'd lasted so long under his father._

_He doesn't know much about the southern tribes or their use of magic, if they'll be able to sense the presence of the hex bags, let alone defend themselves against them._

_His father's grin shows that he doesn't care about that._

_"Lim!"_

_"Your majesty!" Advisor Lim stands._

_"Pick out three prisoners. We must... prepare them."_

_Lim bows obediently, turning to leave._

_Hyunjin honestly can't say he remembers the rest of the meeting. It had been full of cruelties, of brutality and deception and jarring revelations. His father wouldn't negotiate; wouldn't try for a peaceful end to this. He should have expected it, but as he meandered back to his rooms, he was still shocked._

_"I heard they want to defeat the southern tribes because of the port."_

_He stopped at the whisper. It travelled down the hallway, so light he couldn't tell where it was coming from._

_"But - " He couldn't hear what was said next, a different voice to the first, distorted by the distance. "The dungeons?"_

_The dungeons? What was in the dungeons? All the prisoners from the attack were in the cells on the outskirts of the property. Only the main house even had dungeons - a dark, dank room, built of stone on all sides hidden under the house. Hyunjin hated it. The chains on the walls only made it worse._

_"Its been in there for nearly thirty years - " The voice became mumbling again. Hyunjin strained his ears, trying to hear what they were saying. "The southern tribes are trying to free -"_

_Was someone in the dungeons? Hyunjin had only seen it a few times and there had never been anybody in there, not that he could remember. But had the voice said someone - or, something - had been there for thirty years?_

_"His majesty is - "_

_"Curses - "_

_"Disease?"_

_Hyunjin leans agains the wall, absently wondering who it is talking, if they know about the plan with the hex bags. If what they're saying about someone being in the dungeons, being the reason the southern tribes attacked, then Hyunjin..._

_Hyunjin doesn't know what to think._

_He stumbles into his room, closing the door behind him and immediately going to look out of the window. There are warriors out there, running drills. He stands there, staring at them as they practice their sword-work and their archery, their hand-to-hand combat, for hours. He doesn't move until the sun starts to set._

_He's made up his mind._

_He doesn't go to dinner with his father; luckily, its not an unusual occurrence. He has a reputation for being a dreamer, always losing track of time. His father scoffs at him, but does little to correct it. Hyunjin knows its because he's just the spare - he's not important enough for his father to waste time, not when Hyunjin will be married off in the next few years and no longer be his problem._

_He shakes the thought from his head. He knows he's not just a pretty face. It doesn't matter what everyone else thinks._

_He goes to the dungeons as soon as night falls._

_The room will haunt him forever. In a hidden corner, sigils burned into the stone telling him to stay away, to pass over, to ignore, there was a man, gaunt and haunted and half-dead, even as his eyes burned brightly._

_"To the east and slightly south," The man had said, voice raspy and barely-there, "is a god."_

_"What?" Hyunjin fumbled._

_"Find him."_

_Hyunjin had turned and fled and he didn't stop, not when he exited the gates unimpeded, not when his horse was galloping down the dirt path in the opposite direction of the town with no guards following, not when they reached the first outlying village, nearly a full day later. Hyunjin couldn't stop; couldn't be caught, some deep-buried instinct spurring him on._

_Find him._

Hyunjin opens his eyes with a gasp, scrambling to find a tighter grip on the reigns as his horse jerks.

"Shh." He soothes, reaching out to pet along the horses neck. The horse has done well, with little time to rest over the past few days. Hyunjin hasn't seen anyone following him, but he doesn't dare stop for long. He can't predict what his father will do, how he'll react. If he'll know Hyunjin ran away, that he went in the dungeons, or whether he'll think the southern tribe did something. Think that someone else did something.

Hyunjin doesn't know which he'd prefer. Whatever kept his father away from him, he supposed. But if he thought someone had done something, would he hurt even more people to find out?

It didn't bare thinking about. Not right now.

He had spent the past five days wondering why he was doing this. Why he was listening to that man's words. He still hadn't found the answer. But he hoped - he knew, somewhere inside himself - that this was the only way to save his people and stop his father's path of destruction at last.

He just had to find a god.


	2. The House

The house loomed over him, its shadow large. Hyunjin had made it through the forest overnight and the sun was reaching the highest point in the sky when his horse passed the gate.

He drew to a stop. He'd never seen a house quite like this. It was tall, taller than any other house he'd seen, and sprawling. One big building instead of many little ones, like the palace he'd grown up in. It was built on large grounds, although it was boxed in by tall walls on each side, only the gate providing a glimpse into the property. It was an expensive gate, too, made of metal rather than wood. Hyunjin can't imagine what sort of person or family lives here to be able to afford such a thing.

"Can I help you?"

He jumps at the sudden voice, scrambling so he doesn't fall off his horse before turning to the gates. There's a young man stood there, peering through the metal. He looks to be about Hyunjin's age, with dark brown hair curling around his ears and suspicious brown eyes. His clothes are basic and he carries no obvious weapon. Hyunjin guesses he works on the estate.

"I'm just passing by." He says formally.

The boys suspicion doesn't fade.

"So why have you stopped outside our gate?" He's rigidly polite in his questioning, but Hyunjin's eyes still narrow - people don't question him like this.

"To admire the grand estate." Is what he says instead of protesting the interrogation. He does not bare any of the symbols of his station and, unlike his older brother, his portrait has not been widely circulated. It is likely this boy has no idea who he is. Nor does Hyunjin particularly want him to find out.

The boy stares at him a moment before his eyes turn to the horse.

"Your horse looks tired." His eyebrows furrow, concern starting to bleed into his voice. Hyunjin resists the urge to wince. He had tried his best to let his horse rest when he could, but he never stopped for more than a handful of hours at a time. Not long enough for him to properly rest, let alone the horse. He doubted they could keep going like this for much longer.

They'd have to, though. They had a goal. Not to mention that it felt a lot like the hounds of hell itself were on his heels.

"You should come in." The boy decides abruptly, stepping back as if to open the gates. Hyunjin feels a rush of panic.

"I wouldn't dare impose." He says instead of kicking his horse into gear and galloping as fast as he could off into the distance, like his original instinct told him too.

The boys eyes narrow at him, as if sensing what Hyunjin really want's to do.

"You wouldn't be."

He hauls the gate open before Hyunjin can refuse the offer, the metal groaning at the forced movement.

"Come in." The boy jerks his head towards the house and before Hyunjin can really think on it, he directs his horse through the gates. As he waits for the boy to close the gate - which is accompanied by more groaning, although this time its mostly from the boy - he dismounts, taking a moment to pet the steady animal in thanks. The boy was right - the horse really is starting to look worse for wear.

"Follow me, I'll show you where your horse can rest."

Hyunjin turns as the boy comes up behind him. He's shorter than Hyunjin had originally thought, but is filled out and healthy in a way that many of his people aren't - even in the palace people are starting to feel the effects of failing trade with the wider kingdom as relations sour with many tribes and clans.

He doesn't protest as the boy leads him round the side of the house. There is a small paddock up against one wall, with a squat building in one corner.

"The horses are kept to the back of the property, but we keep this one for guests." The boy explains. He opens the gate and lets Hyunjin lead his horse in. "I'll be a moment."

The boy disappears into the building in the corner and Hyunjin watches, feeling slightly detached, as the boy moves back and forth from the building until there are two troughs in the paddock, one filled with water and the other food. He's covered in hay by the time he comes to stand next to Hyunjin again and the prince supposes the other boy had made the building more comfortable for his horse.

"My thanks." He bows shallowly.

The boy side eyes him for a moment before nodding.

"Come on then, I'll show you the house. I'm sure you'd like to bathe and eat."

The boy doesn't wait for a response, already making his way back round to the front door. Hyunjin follows wordlessly. He has encountered few people in his life that are this kind to strangers. His internal questions on why, exactly, this boy is being so kind are stopped when they enter the house. It is grand, a wide open space dotted with low seats. There are tapestries on the wall, depicting a story Hyunjin doesn't recognise. There are many closed doors dotted along the walls and, absently, he wonders what's behind them.

"Please, sit down." The boy directs him to one of the seats and Hyunjin sinks down without complaint, folding his hands politely in his lap. He's filthy, his clothes dusty from the road and his long hair dirtier than it was ever allowed to get at the palace, but the boy doesn't seem to care about him dirtying the furniture, so Hyunjin pays it no mind. "I'll go find you something to eat and get some hot water for you to wash up."

The boy disappears behind one of the doors and Hyunjin relaxes slightly. He wonders if the boy is the only one here, where the master of the house is. Where the rest of the staff is, because surely a place this large had a veritable army of servants. He doesn't have long to wonder, however, because the boy reappears with a large bowl. He carefully hands it over to Hyunjin, who breaths in the scent, his stomach rumbling. Food has been scarce the past couple of days, and although the bowl holds only stew, it has rice, meat and vegetables in it and Hyunjin doesn't think he's seen anything better.

"Once again, my thanks." He bows his head to the boy, who waves him off and once again disappears behind a door, saying something about water. Hyunjin can't wait any longer and digs in, thankful for the basic utensils the boy had provided.

He doesn't think whilst he eats, too busy enjoying the food. He had managed to stop by some local markets on his way through the outlying villages, but not very much and none of it enough to fill him like this stew does. He doesn't notice that the boy has returned, finishing scooping the rice from the bottom of the bowl, tiredness filling him now that he has eaten and relaxed a little.

"Our bathhouse is undergoing repairs, I'm afraid." He looks up at the sudden voice, startled. The boy is leaning in a doorway to his right - Hyunjin is certain its not the door he left through. "But we have set up a bathing room to the back that you can use - it should be hot now."

Hyunjin stands from his seat, holding the bowl uncertainly in his hands.

"You can just leave that there." The boy nods to a table a couple steps away.

"Thank you for the meal." Hyunjin bows again. The boy smiles, this time and nods his head behind him.

"Come on, I'll show you the bath."

Its a bit of a blur from there, honestly. Hyunjin sinks into a large metal tub unlike anything he'd ever seen in a room towards the back of the house. Its full of steaming water and Hyunjin takes advantage of the bar of soap on a little ledge to the left to scrub himself clean, running it over his hair until the even the long strands no longer feel full of grease and dirt. He usually has servants tend to his hair, but he's seen what they do enough times to get the gist of it himself. Besides, he had none of the oils or materials they usually used, and soap was more than simple enough to use.

When he stepped out of the room, hair hanging limply around his shoulders, tying a simple shirt around his waist, he can't help but let out an exclamation of surprise when he almost runs into the boy.

"Would you like to rest?"

Hyunjin feels he should be startled at the absolute lack of subtlety the boy possesses, but nothing had changed in his way of speaking since they met by the gate; plus, Hyunjin was so tired his vision was starting to blur.

"If its no imposition."

"I offered." The boys voice was kinder. Maybe he knew how tired Hyunjin was.

Hyunjin followed the boy down the hallway, past several more doors until the boy turned into a room. It was a standard size, with a bed made up on the floor.

"Here, you can stay here for now. I've left some water for you." The boy nodded to a table in the corner, where a jug of water and a cup could be seen. "Don't worry about how long you sleep - we'll take care of your horse."

The boy goes to retreat before Hyunjin can question him.

"Oh yeah," The boys head reappears in the doorway he'd just passed through. "I'm Jisung."

"Hyunjin." They bowed at each other in polite greeting. "We must be about the same age." Hyunjin says haltingly. "So - so just call me Hyunjin." He's never done this before - no one except his father and brother call him just 'Hyunjin'.

"I guess we are." The boy - Jisung - smiles. "You can just call me Jisung, then."

He departs with a wave before either of them can say anything more.

Mind turning over the mystery that is Jisung, Hyunjin crawls into bed, letting out a sigh when he's led down fully. For the first time in what feels like forever, he relaxes.

And he dreams.


End file.
